


My Life As A Cat

by starshipslytherin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Animagus Regulus, Brotherly Love, Cat Regulus, Gen, Humorous narrative, Humour, I wrote this as my immediate reaction to one brief thought, Platonic Relationships, Regulus Black Lives, Regulus is Crookshanks, Sarcasm, background hinny, sarcastic narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 19:22:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11111202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starshipslytherin/pseuds/starshipslytherin
Summary: *freeze frame of Crookshanks eating a dead spider*Yeah, that's me. Regulus Arcturus Black. You're probably wondering how I got into this situation.I won't tell you, though, because I'm currently trying to get out of it. The only problem is I lost my wand and I need it to be able to turn back. Plus, unfortunately a cat's mind isn't as quick as a human mind, so I can't really think.Pretty tricky, right?





	My Life As A Cat

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on a headcanon I love. I don't really know who introduced it but apparently it's quite popular on Tumblr already. This morning I told someone about it and I just had to write this, so enjoy!

When Hermione returned and hugged me, I wish I could have done more. But I was just a cat. So I meowed apologetically and gently rubbed my forehead against her thigh when she was sitting on the couch next to Harry. It was all I could do. And I walked over her legs towards Harry and nudged his arm.  
Harry had taken him down. He had been defeated. He had finally been defeated. And I would have given anything if I had been able to help. But I was just a cat. Part Kneazle, alright, but that wasn't improving things drastically. Technically, I was still just a cat. A pretty - let's call it unique - looking one, too.

Now I'm curled up on Harry's knees, facing Hermione, and started purring. Purring is relaxing. Your whole body vibrates when you purr. Perks of being a cat.  
The word 'Horcrux' is mentioned. In an instant, I'm up. Ron is shooting me a suspicious look, and I give him my deadly glare in return. Thankfully, being a cat does not restrict your ability to do the deadly glare, which I am very grateful for.  
I sit down between Harry and Hermione and listen. They're talking to a number of people. Ginny, who keeps smiling at Harry - how adorable - her Mum, Lupin, a blue-haired baby, Ron's eldest brother, the one with the scars on his face, not Sirius (Sirius called me smart, which I appreciate), and, well, other people. They're all listening.  
"Your cat is adorable", says a blonde woman, who just entered, to Hermione, bends over and pets my head. I wish I was physically able to roll my eyes. I'm trying to listen, my friend. I hiss at her. She's cooing at me and sits down in front of the couch so she can keep on getting on my nerves. I stand up, with my tail as high up in the air as it can be, and strut away. Damn idiots. I hide under the couch. Leave me be, sweet Merlin.  
They're telling a story about Horcruxes. They're talking about everything they did during the past months. Starting with the cave. These two idiots went there, almost died, found the fake locket (could've told you that) and then one of them actually died. It's a bit confusing. Still, I can't help but feel responsible for Dumbledore's death until Harry says he would have died anyway due to having been wise enough to put a Horcrux on his wrinkly old finger. Alright, so I even helped him shorten the time span during which he suffered. Right?  
Hermione starts talking about the note. That's where things get interesting. I laugh (internally because cat) as Harry explains how it took them ages to find out who R. A. B. was, but Lupin instantly knows when they mention it. Should have asked him in the first place.  
"So Regulus Black stole a Horcrux?", he gasps.  
Damn right. Why is everyone so surprised.  
"The real Horcrux had been at Grimmauld Place all the time. Kreacher hadn't managed to destroy it. At first he refused to hand it to us."  
Of course Kreacher hadn't managed to destroy it. Silly me, believing a sodding House Elf would be able to handle a Horcrux.  
Hermione continues. "We finally managed to trade it against the fake one with the note in it. Kreacher has been missing his Master Regulus a lot, you see, and we promised him to finish his work."  
"Does Sirius know?", Lupin asks.  
Listen up. Here it comes.  
"I tried to tell him at the Cottage. He didn't say anything", Harry shrugs.  
"He loved his brother a lot", Lupin says quietly.  
Oh, is that so, really? It would have helped not to ignore him for years, then. But hey, I'm just the cat. No need to ask my opinion.  
"He didn't talk for days after he heard Regulus went missing."  
I would have loved to witness that. Sirius shutting up for once.  
I mean, it wouldn't have been necessary if my plan had worked the way it was supposed to. But still.  
"We took turns in wearing the locket, since it seemed to bring out the worst in us if we got too close to it", Hermione explains.  
What an impressively astute observation. Horcruxes, which happen to be one of the darkest things magic can produce, make you moody. Chapeau, you three. Generally I think I would have been able to cut the time things took them in half. What a pity I'm just the cat.  
And in that very moment, Sirius enters. I would have sighed if I had human vocal chords.  
"What are you plotting?", he jokes. Annoying piece of -  
Oh, I can't restrain myself from darting towards him and digging my claws into his trousers so he can't remove me. Out of all people, Sirius is the one I hate the least. (That's a compliment.)  
He limps in the direction of the chair next to Lupin, his right leg heavy because I got comfortable on it, and takes a seat.  
"We're talking about our journey", Hermione explains.  
Ron is eating biscuits.  
"They've been talking about - your brother's note. Harry told you about it, didn't he?", Lupin asks softly.  
And, miraculously, truly, Sirius says nothing. I'm impressed, actually. I never thought I'd live to witness this. Mostly because nobody ever believed it was possible.  
Wait. Is Sirius sad? This wasn't supposed to happen. I climb his leg and sit on his thigh, poking his side. He looks down on me (like he always did) and smiles. I rub my head against his stomach, provoking the crowd to make 'awwww' sounds.  
"'ow adorable", purrs the blonde woman from earlier. I take a second to glare at her so she knows I am not, in fact, adorable.  
Sirius starts to pet me, and I cuddle him like I used to when we were little. Even though he smells like a wet dog.

Now we're in something called an aeroplane. Hermione reserved an extra seat for me, which was a very nice gesture, and she's feeding me her leftovers. They're a bit charred, as everything you're given in here, but still surprisingly edible. She explained to me how we were going to get her parents back.  
I'd love to have my wand back so I'd be able to inform my brother about how much of a git he really is. Just so, I feel like it. Anyway, I was very much of an idiot. Losing your wand in a cave with Inferi in it was probably one of the stupidest things someone could do. Not that I did it deliberately, of course, but I could have taken precautions. Altogether, there were a lot of aspects to my plan that I could have thought through more properly and reasonably but hey, now I'll have to spend the rest of my pathetic existence as a cat. It's not like I was planning to have a life when I grew up.  
The landing was, in my humble opinion, quite stressful and resembled the sensation of accidentally crashing into a tree with your broomstick (been there). Still, everyone appears to feel the urge to applaud. I reach out to hold Hermione's arm so she'll stop and I glare at her. She laughs. "Are we being too loud, Crookshanks?"  
Nope, you're being too polite. Why are you praising someone for nearly killing you? Just wondering?  
She forces me into my box and carries me out of the plane, accepting the little treat the stewards are handing out as a goodbye, and follows Ron and Harry down the stairs and into the bus back to the building.  
She calls a taxi and her voice is shaking as she reads the address to the driver. I noticed she actually likes her parents ages ago, and although I can't relate, I know what family can mean to someone, and so I crawl out of my box and onto her lap, stretching and yawning, and fall asleep.  
I am unpleasantly loudly awakened by Ronald snapping, "Then just lift him up, he's just a cat!"  
(You bet.)  
"He's my cat, though!", Hermione protests sharply.  
Before things escalate, I get up gracefully (giving Ron my favourite glare) and get into the box myself.  
"See, he's smart. Right, Crookshanks? You're a smart cat", she purrs.  
My chest swelling in pride, I stick my nose up into the air and grin triumphantly. Smart cat. That's better than just any cat.  
The taxi comes to a halt. Hermione pays using the crumpled, dirty pieces of paper Muggles use as their money and lifts my box and her bag out of the car, Harry and Ron doing the same.  
Time to have some fun, I think, as Ron is walking behind me, watching me in skepticism. I smirk and stick my tongue out at him. Who cares about me being childish, it's fun.  
He stares at me blankly for a while. I give him a provoking look.  
"Hermione", Ron moans, "your cat is sticking his tongue out at me!"  
Hermione sighs.  
I close my mouth again, still watching Ron amusedly.  
"You're so _ridiculous_ , Ronald Weasley", she snaps. Harry starts chuckling.  
"But I swear -!"  
"Stop it, Ron, you're making a fool of yourself."  
I wait a few seconds and repeat the provocation.  
"Hermione! He's doing it again!"  
She turns around and probably rolls her eyes. "Don't you think you're overdoing it just a bit? Stop being childish and leave my cat alone!"  
We're walking up to a house. Hermione inhales shakily.  
"Alright, here's the plan. I didn't make them forget Crookshanks completely. They'll recognise him, be thankful we found him, and maybe invite us in. Ron, you make up a story about how we found him and brought him back here because we were visiting Harry, who moved here, and I'll undo the charms when they're distracted."  
I utter a sound of protest and reach out to touch Hermione's leg. When she looks into my box, I give her the saddest look I possibly can.  
"Aw, don't worry, I'm taking you back home with me", she smiles. I purr. I don't know if cats actually purr if they're told something they like, but it's my way of showing affection. Because it's the only way. Because I'm a cat.  
We stop at the front door. I think Harry is the one who rang, anyway, seconds later, I can see two brown shins and pink shoes in the door.  
"Oh, hello, you three", comes a surprised female voice from above me. "How can I help you?"  
"Good afternoon", Hermione starts, her voice shaking just a bit, barely noticeably, but audibly. "We - um, we found this cat and traced him back here. Is he yours?"  
She holds up my box, turning it around so I'm facing Dr. Granger, who clearly is Dr. Granger. I meow. I've been missing the Grangers.  
"Oh my God! Garfield!", she exclaims. She turns to Hermione. "You're British, too, aren't you! You didn't have to come here - we lost him back home - Darling!", she called into the house, "we've got Garfield back!"  
Despite her joy, I would have loved to remind her that my name was certainly not Garfield. I was Crookshanks. Alright, maybe not. But I like that name better. Still, why not Regulus? And my friend calls me Reg. The one friend I had. That's pretty pathetic, actually.  
Dr. Granger number two appears behind her. He stares at me blankly for a second, then smiles at Hermione. "How did you find him?"  
"Do come in!", his wife says. "All three of you! How can we ever make up for this!"  
Pfft. As if I'm that much of a gift.  
"You don't have to!", Hermione tells them eagerly. She's close to breaking into tears. Don't cry now, Hermione. Please don't cry.  
Dr. Granger number one pulls all three into their small house and into a living room. "So how did you find him?", she demands again, urging everyone to take a seat, and her husband scampers into the kitchen and comes back with some tea and biscuits.  
Nobody does what Hermione said.  
Yet, it works.  
There are tears and hugs and everyone loves each other so so much and I'm sitting under the couch (again) and I'm experiencing quite an unusual sensation; it's almost as if I missed Sirius. Me. Missing Sirius. It's ludicrous, but true.

We're back home in England. The Grangers are happy and back to being Hermione's parents, which is a very good thing.  
Right now, Mrs. Weasley is feeding people at her house. She gave me a sausage, which I'm glad about, because it's delicious and I'm hungry and I forgot how bad the Grangers' dentist-approved, teeth friendly, sugar free cat food actually tastes.  
Sirius is there, sitting next to Harry. I'm curled up on his feet, purring contentedly, and he occasionally gives some of his fried potatoes to me. I'm quite sure it's quite obvious to everyone present, even though he's trying to hide it. I like Sirius. Even though he still smells like a wet dog. I can forgive him.  
He's still getting quiet every time something related to me (not as a cat, but as a wizard) is brought up by someone. I feel sorry for him. I want to tell him I'm here. Somehow. But I don't know how, and my mind works differently when I'm a cat. So I can't really think a lot.

I have attached myself to my brother's robes again. As I had done so often lately. And we're out in the Weasleys' garden. The gnomes, who reek quite a lot, are tempting me to chase after them, but Sirius is having another in-depth conversation with Harry (about something philosophical that my cat mind can't comprehend, which is a pity, since I know I would be very interested in the subject if I understood it), so I'm not leaving him. He seems pretty sad. And I hear my name.  
So I climb his body and sit on his shoulder. I can tell he thinks I'm heavy, however, I don't really care. I wrap my tail gently around his neck and purr. (I still love purring, in case you couldn't tell.)  
"So you're absolutely sure?", Sirius asks.  
"I did read the note. And Kreacher remembers. You should be proud, Sirius. He died a hero." Harry smiles.  
I try not to think about how much Sirius would laugh at me if he knew I permanently turned myself into a ginger cat with a squished pansy face and pat his head with my front paw instead. My claws end up entangled in his long black hair, but who cares. I'm a cat, that's normal.  
And again, Sirius remains quiet for a while. Until he asks, "Can we - can we go there?"  
Harry looks at him in mild surprise. "I guess", he says quietly. "Yes, we should. It might help you make peace with it."  
"Thank you, Harry", Sirius barely even whispers, his voice thick with something he's holding back, and pats Harry's shoulder.  
Something in my little brain clicks. The cave. My wand. My ability to turn into a human.  
"Tonight?", Harry asks.  
Sirius nods half eagerly, half tentatively. "Yes, yes."  
I'm certainly not going to let go of Sirius's clothing anytime soon. He'll be forced to take me.

"Crookshanks, let go of him!", Hermione sighs. I press my lips together stubbornly and hiss. Of course I feel sorry about that, but she'll understand.  
"He really likes you", Ron says to Sirius with a shrug.  
"He's trying to comfort you", Harry grins sheepishly.  
Sirius shrugs. "Not that much of a problem."  
"You've been close friends", Hermione resigns. "He's a smart animal. If he's not letting go, maybe he wants you to take him."  
"Can we take him?", Harry asks.  
"Why not", she says with another sigh. "He's not stupid."  
How very observant of her. Thank you, Hermione, I'm flattered.  
I meow happily and snuggle up to Sirius's neck.  
"Can we apparate with an animal?", Harry wants to know.  
"People apparate with their pets on them all the time", Hermione explains. "Not to mention all the bacteria and insects -"  
"We've got your point", Ron cuts her off.  
"Fine", Hermione nods, smiling at Sirius wearily. "You're going to be okay?"  
"Sure", he says. "Crookshanks is taking care of me."  
I meow triumphantly.  
Harry and Sirius go outside into the chaotic garden (Mother would have suffered a stroke at the sight of it) with me on Sirius's shoulders. I dig my claws deeper into his robes as he takes Harry's elbow and they whirl around and I try to help them apparate even though I'm just a cat with no wand on me.  
We arrived safely. I recognise the setting instantly; it hasn't changed. There's the boat, which Harry calls. I feel Sirius swallow, and they enter it. I'm not leaving Sirius's immediate proximity, as, I admit, I'm a bit traumatised and therefore scared. I also don't like water. Cats don't like water.  
There's the little island in the middle. They leave the boat, and I jump off Sirius to examine my surroundings. I know my brother needs me, but I need my wand. I hope I'll be able to find it.  
I hear Harry showing Sirius the potion, explaining it to him, telling him about Dumbledore when Dumbledore drank it.  
"So what do you think - Regulus saw - when he drank it?", Sirius breathes out huskily.  
"I don't know."  
What do you think I saw, idiot? I saw you dying, for fuck's sake. If I was human, I would have cried. But then again, if I was human I wouldn't be here because Sirius wouldn't have wanted to come because I would've been alive and yeah.  
I can sense it now. My wand, it has to be somewhere around.  
I get closer to the lake, pacing around.  
I can see it. It's on the ground. It's lying there, partly covered in disgusting green stuff, but I know it's still working. It's a wand, after all, a magical object. And it's clearly my wand, silver lime, unicorn hair, twelve inches, unyielding. I remember the way it felt holding it in my hand, even though the memory of what having hands feels like is rather blurry itself.  
I meow.  
They ignore me.  
I start wailing.  
Still, no response besides a funny look.  
I'm growing increasingly impatient. My wand is right there and if this fucking git doesn't notice I'll die a not so attractive cat. (What I did to deserve such an optically unappealing animagus form is beyond my understanding.) And my brother will die believing I died. Which, still, is less ridiculous and embarrassing than what actually happened, but it'd be worth it.  
I hiss at him and start attacking his ankles.  
"Crookshanks!", Harry frowns.  
"I think he's trying to tell me something", Sirius realises.  
No shit, Sherlock.  
I keep wailing, pointing down into the water.  
"I know, that's where it happened", Sirius bends down and pets me, "the little bastard. I was such a horrible brother in the end. I'd give anything if I could tell him I loved him, you know. He was so small. And so soft. Far too soft for this cruel world."  
_Soft_? I'll shove soft up your stinking arse.  
As soon as I've got my wand back.  
Priorities.  
I continue pointing at it.  
He doesn't get it.  
Idiot, as I said.  
If only there was a way to communicate.  
Harry's bent down, too.  
And it occurs to me.  
Dust.  
I stick out my right front paw and draw a line onto the dirty floor.  
And another one, and another one, and a final one.  
"What's he doing?", Harry asks.  
"Looks like - he's writing something. Look."  
What an astute observation, Sirius.  
_Wand._  
The word is clearly and legibly written into the dust.  
I add an arrow pointing to the exact position of the wand.  
"He's - he's found Reg's wand", Sirius whispers. "Look."  
"Yeah, I can see it", Harry confirms.  
_Accio_ , I write.  
Why didn't I come up with this sooner?  
Oh, right. I was supposed to be a cat.  
"Are you sure?", Sirius wants to know. He's asking me.  
I nod.  
"You really are a smart cat", he smiles at me.  
Come on, are you really that oblivious?  
Just like Harry.  
Both of them wouldn't recognise the obvious if it sat right in front of them, writing stuff into the dust, and had a pansy face.  
Wait.  
Sirius exhales shakily and nods, drawing his wand.  
"Accio, Reg's wand", he whispers.  
The wand listens to him. It comes closer, whirling up mud, and pops above the surface. I catch it with my mouth.  
_Mine_ , I write.  
I begin licking it clean.  
"Wait, what?", Harry frowns. He's still got no clue. As I'm saying, oblivious as hell. Same with my brother.  
"What do you mean, yours?", he asks me in bewilderment.  
_It's me_ , I write.  
"Reg?"  
I nod and smirk, then continue cleaning my wand. I'm almost done.  
"What?", Harry blurts.  
"You're an animagus?"  
I nod. The wand is clean. It stinks a bit, but that's going to wear off. I pick it up with my mouth.  
"Did you - fake your own death? And you lost your wand?"  
I nod. Embarrassing, but true.  
"That's why you wanted to come here!"  
"Wait", Harry interrupts. "Sirius, is this cat your brother?"  
"Of course. Sly little beast. He looks nothing like that, though. Except for his deadly glares. Did you see the way he looks at Fleur?"  
Is Fleur the annoying blonde Frenchwoman? Who thinks I'm adorable? Probably. I conclude I don't particularly like Fleur.  
"So being an unregistered Animagus runs in the family, doesn't it?", Harry winks.  
"Seems so", Sirius says with a lopsided grin, but his breath is shaking. 

There are people all around me, which I don't appreciate.  
"Sirius, are you sure?", Hermione asks in concern.  
Alright, actually it's just Ron, her, Harry, and Sirius. But that's enough for me.  
"He found it and wrote things, like I said. I'm telling you."  
"It would make sense, you know", Ron shrugs. "Because he helped you with Scabbers - I mean, Pettigrew. - Hermione?"  
"Yeah?"  
His expression is filled to the brim with glee. "I'm not the only one whose pet wasn't actually a pet. Just saying."  
"Maybe", Hermione replies without missing a beat. "But mine's a _hero_."  
Sirius beams at that. My heart races. The words are resonating within it. Me, Regulus Black, a hero. Feels good.  
"Regulus?", he asks softly. "Will you transfigure back?"  
I let my gaze wander between the four faces. One belongs to my brother. The others, even Ron's, have become friendly to me.  
We're at home. Grimmauld Place.  
And my wand, still in my mouth, warms up softly.  
I think it's time.

My hair is long and untidy, my robes too tight, exposing my white shins and knuckles, the shoes long gone, I got rid of them before I transfigured into a cat for the first and only time in my life.  
While I'm still sat on the wooden floor, Sirius attacks me with a hug instantly, and I hit him as hard as I can. His body produces a hollow thud.  
"OW!", he yells. "What was that for, you fucking arsehole?!"  
"I am not soft", I smirk. "I hope you understood."  
"I did", he snaps, rubbing his lower back.  
I hug him again. "Alright then. Brother."  
"Alright then, little shit. Get up already."  
And I do. I give Harry, Ron and Hermione a shy look, and they smile.  
"Nice to meet you", Hermione says politely.  
"And you", I answer.  
Harry grins, and I nod at him.  
Sirius has convinced me to come to the kitchen and eat - I'm hungry, obviously, and I might meet Kreacher.  
"Could you please admit now that you did stick your tongue out at me in Australia?", Ron hisses as we walk through the door.  
"Why would I commit such an infantile act?", I say innocently, pretending to be shocked at the insinuation.  
"You were a cat."  
"Alright, perhaps my cat self was a little bit childish -"  
"Hermione!", Ron yells. "He admitted it! He admitted he stuck his tongue out at me -"  
I can't help it, I just have to laugh at him.  
Hermione joins in.  
"Serves you right", says Harry with a smirk.  
"Why did you do that!", Ron exclaims. "You're supposed to be a grown man!"  
"Because he's an idiot", Sirius smiles. "My little idiot brother. Right, Reggie?"  
I frown, a smug look on my face. "I think I'm taller than you."  
"You're still little."  
I snort.  
"Love you, Sirius", I whisper, only for him to be heard.  
"Love you, too, Regulus."

Being me again does feel good. But having my brother back after all this time feels best.


End file.
